


A Lesson in Strength

by AR_Redux



Series: The Education of Anna of Arendelle [4]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AR_Redux/pseuds/AR_Redux
Summary: Strength can be found in muscles and souls. It doesn't mean always being okay.  It just means you keep going until it is.See notes for warnings.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Series: The Education of Anna of Arendelle [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824778
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	1. External

**Author's Note:**

> Set post Pt. IV of the original in the aforementioned lodge. 
> 
> This chapter NSFW. Just smut here! More warnings next chapter.

It was dark well before they reached the lodge, and though Anna had desperately wanted to make love to her husband the minute they got through the door, she didn’t have the chance.

The scent of pine wafted through the air, which made sense. She was warm, and that made sense as well. But she could hear distant sounds—pots and pans? Her eyes opened, and she blinked, realizing she was no longer outside in the sleigh, trying and failing not to fall asleep.

She was inside, warm under the covers of fur and blankets, surrounded by warm carpets and fires and pine floors with paneled walls. The lodge that her father had built as a young man had gone largely unused in his own lifetime, and had been handed down for the use of the monarch. Elsa had never had much use for it, but Anna and Kristoff had used it as a hiding place for years, sneaking out on cold winter days, wrapped up in blankets in front of the fire.

Anna had always wanted to make love to Kristoff in front of the roaring fire, and it had been her plan to do so as soon as they had arrived. It had never seemed wise for an unmarried princess to indulge her every whim, so they never had, but now, she was a married woman. And she’d fallen asleep.

Blinking, she noted that it was dark, but in December, it was dark for half the day. It could be early morning, or still night. Taking a cleansing breath, Anna pushed herself up to sitting to find the clock on the mantle with eyes that still blinked slowly. Nine o’clock, or just slightly past. A squint verified that yes, it was a little past. So, night. They had left the castle just as twilight had begun to set in that afternoon. It only took an hour, maybe two, to travel the few miles up and into the woods, so she must have slept for several hours, at least.

Not surprising, though, she mused, stretching languidly again as she collapsed against the pillows. It had been just over twenty-four hours since she finally got to take advantage of being a married woman. The sensation of waking up that morning, still connected as intimately as was possible for two people, with Kristoff behind her and around her and  _ in _ her, teasing her as he carried in coffee and strutted around completely nude, had reminded her just how amazing her new reality really was.

The first time, he had followed her lead and every direction, letting her talk him through what she had thought for a moment would be an almost instant release for him, before he had rallied and taken her exactly the way she wanted. It had been hot, embers building into roaring flames, and though neither of them had lasted long, it had been beautiful. The second time, sometime in the small hours, was slower and dirtier than the first, and she had fallen asleep with him inside her.

The third time, she had willingly been the recipient of the attention of his lips and hands for a long time before he pinned her to the bed, looking momentarily nervous before she had leaned up for a long, hot kiss. He had then proceeded to fuck her into oblivion.

After that, there was getting ready to go, which meant bidding farewell to the lingering wedding guests, parading through the town again to wave to the many subjects who had gathered to again cheer the marriage of their queen, and riding an hour up snow covered road. 

So, yeah, being tired made sense.

Anna couldn’t remember when she had fallen asleep, but she guessed Kristoff must have carried her. Casting her eyes around the darkened room, she could see that he had also carried up their trunks, and she inhaled deeply again, this time smelling something  _ wonderful,  _ something that drew her out of bed and out of the room.

The house had been designed to be run without servants. Though there was a small servant’s cottage a short distance away, the lodge itself only had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a common area, and a kitchen. When Anna had suggested it for their honeymoon, she thought they might bring one of the cooks, at least, until Kristoff had laughed off the need. They’d be fine, he said, so long as the kitchen itself was stocked.

In three years, the only cooking of Kristoff’s she’d ever experienced was his Flemmy stew. After that, she’d had no desire to encourage him to cook for her, however much she loved him, when there was no need. Now, however, she had supposed, she could live with it for a few days, as long as he promised not to ask her to eat grass. He’d promised, and she’d acquiesced him.

Whatever she smelled, it certainly didn’t have the earthy smell of Flemmy stew.

Anna was quiet as she made her way down the stairs and through the common area, where a warm fire burned brightly in the grate, following the smell of onions and sausages and bread. The kitchen door was open, and Anna peered around it to find her husband reaching up, pulling a pair of loaves of bread from the brick oven, setting them aside before removing a heavy-looking iron pot easily from the heat of the stove and setting it aside to cool. He had changed clothes at some point, no longer dressed in his heaviest mountain gear, instead clad in warm wool trousers and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up while he worked.

“Something smells good,” she mused, making her way into the kitchen, leaning carefully against the worktop.

“I made lapskaus,” he said, gesturing to the pot. “Don’t worry, I left out the moss.”

Anna stared at the small loaves, intrigued. “You know how to make bread?”

“Of course I do.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “First thing I ever learned how to make. Also the most useful. Keeps for a while, if you keep it wrapped up. Well, that and sausage.”

Anna blinked, watching as he gave the bread a small tap, seeming satisfied, before his long legs carried him back to the other end of the wooden worktop, where he put a lid on the pot of stew. “You know how to make sausage?”

“Hey, I know you hated the Flemmy stew,” he said, and he was laughing as he said this. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s almost Jule, but I thought I’d make you some meat and potatoes this time. And you have to have bread,” he added, rolling his eyes. “Otherwise, it’s just stew. And anyway, I didn’t make this sausage, it’s from the castle kitchens. But yes, I do know how to make sausage.”

“So, we’re really not going to starve?”

He laughed outright at this, stepping away from the cooling bread and the hearty stew. “Come on. It’s got to cool off a little before we can eat.”

Anna stood her ground, hoisting her chin as he came to a stop again in front of her. “And where are we going?”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, regarded her briefly, then bent slightly at the knees, wrapping one strong arm around her waist. She shrieked with laughter and surprise as he tossed her easily over his shoulder, marveling once again at the fact that he was her husband now.

And, oh, the things that came with that.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she gasped a while later, legs wrapped around his waist as she tried desperately to catch her breath. He had her draped over the arm of the sofa, ass in the air, doing nothing to support herself as his hands held tightly to her elevated hips.

His response was a bawdy laugh and a quickening of his hips as he took away her ability to speak.

Dinner was in bed, and so was breakfast the next morning. He brought her eggs and sausage and coffee that, while a great deal stronger than she was used to, she found herself enjoying immensely. 

Anna had thought she had known Kristoff fairly well after three years. Still, it was logical that there were things she wouldn’t notice until they were married, things that one only experienced when with the other for much longer hours during the day and night.

He was actually a very good cook, and she made a mental note of that, because it meant it would be easier to flee back to their little haven in the woods whenever she was able. She also learned that, left to his own devices, he had no problem walking around stark naked.

And though she had always known he carried tremendous strength in the labor-thickened muscles of his body, she found that she had drastically underestimated him.

On the evening of their fourth day at the lodge, Anna was reclining against his bared, solid chest while she read to him from one of her favorite books. It was admittedly childish in nature, fairy stories of toy soldiers and mermaids, but they were also inexplicably sad. She’d stumbled across it in her youth, and the stories had captured her attention ever since.

When she finished the tale she was reading, it was quiet for a moment. Then, “So, she loses the guy, dies, turns into  _ foam,  _ and has to work three hundred years to get into heaven?”

“But she  _ gets  _ to go to heaven,” Anna reminded him. “I like to think she gets the guy then.”

“And you  _ like _ this?”

“It’s romantic,” she protested. “I would spend three hundred years burning in hell, so long as I could spend eternity with you,” she added matter-of-factly.

“That’s pretty dark,” he replied, smiling slightly as he kissed the tip of her nose, “but I guess I get it. I just feel like it shouldn’t be that hard.”

Anna raised her eyebrows at this. “You’ve survived following me through circumstances that are just as crazy, and you think it shouldn’t be hard?”

At this, Kristoff paused. He was quiet for a moment, fingers rubbing softly against her ribcage. When he finally spoke, the words were slow and considerate.

“I never thought about it that way,” he said softly. “I mean, everything worked out fine in the end, but you did scare the hell out of me a couple of times.”

“See?”

“But she lost the guy to someone else. It’s just so sad,” he mused. “I never  _ really _ had to worry that you didn’t love me. I don’t worry about it now, and I doubt I ever will. I’m not trying to sound cocky,” he added hurriedly, mistaking her gaze of amusement for something else, “I’m just saying, it’s always been us, you know? You’ve never worried about who I am or where I’m from, even though I’m a mess sometimes, and maybe that makes you a little nuts, but—”

“Easy, husband of mine,” Anna warned, but she didn’t really mean it, and she could hear the lack of conviction in her tone. “I have a lot more I can withhold from you now.”

Kristoff called her bluff with a raised brow. “But am I wrong?”

Snapping the book closed and setting it aside, she twisted around to face him. “You’re not wrong,” she said, then teased, “but your execution could use some work.”

“You think you could do so much better?” His eyes were sparkling, reminding her of how he had kissed her last night under the stars, their reflection bright in his honey brown depths.

There again, she found something that had changed. Anna had always loved Kristoff,  _ knew _ she loved him, with no trace of doubt. Less than a week into this new phase, however, she had found a level of comfort that she had never imagined possible. With the entire rulebook they’d created over the past few years having been thrown out, it felt like anything could happen, and it felt like freedom.

So instead of answering him, she straddled his thighs and rubbed her nose against his. “Does it matter?” she asked, resting her forehead against his. “You’re stuck with me now.”

His lips curled into a smile as one broad hand stretched across her lower back. “Yes, I am. Merrily and gladly.”

“No regrets?”

“Never.”

Which of them moved first, Anna wasn’t sure. She was only relieved when their lips finally met, when his free hand found the raised hem of her nightgown, pushing one large hand up and under. 

Making love on the couch had proven challenging, but they’d learned how to pull it off without Anna losing her balance or Kristoff falling on the floor. She thought that was where this was headed.

But then, he was rising, easily hoisting her up onto his hips, wrapping her with strong arms. At first, she thought he was carrying her to bed, but she was wrong. There was a desperation in the way his lips met her neck, nipping softly at her flesh a little harder that she was used to, and it made her stomach flutter. She felt a brief hesitation in his touch, and she responded wordlessly, wrapping her fingers in his mop of blonde shag and giving a sharp tug. 

Her back was against the nearest wall a second later as what could only be described as a snarl left his lips. It wasn't the first time he'd lifted her by a long shot, and he always did so as if she weighed no more than a leaf. It was the first time, though, that she felt lighter than even the warmed air around them. Wide palms easily supported her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. When his lips pressed against hers, they were rough and demanding.

Where had _ this _ Kristoff been hiding?

With jerking movements, he untied the drawstring at his hips, keeping her suspended with one hand while he shoved down his pants, kicking them hard across the room. Her nightgown soon followed, though she still wasn't sure how he managed it, but it didn't matter when, after a quick check for her readiness, he entered her roughly, grunting as he did so. 

Arms wound round his neck and legs tight as could be at his waist, it was all she could do to just hold on. Kristoff had always been soft with her, even in those more heated moments between them, even when he was rough. But there was no trace of that now. His eyes were black and wild, harsh grunts emitting from deep in his throat as he snapped his hips against hers. She knew he would stop if she were to ask, but stopping was the farthest thing from her mind as he rutted into her. 

She hoped she never got used to that amazing stretch from his thick manhood, stronger now since there had been no preamble to their coupling. Anna understood now why women would desire a well-endowed lover. The way he filled her was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. She felt whole with him inside her. 

There was a moment where she wondered vaguely if it was that same girth that allowed him to rub up against her clit in such a way, but the thought soon disappeared to be replaced by blinding pleasure. All she could feel, all she could think about, was him. He felt like heaven, smelled like baked bread and sweat and sex and Kristoff, sounded so damn sexy as he grunted with his vigorous movements, looked so _ good.  _

"Yeah?" His voice was raspy in her ear, then he was chucking darkly. "You like this, huh?"

Damn her mindless muttering. 

Oh, the hell with it. If he could go full mountain man on her, she could at least give as good as she was getting. She locked her ankles behind him, tightening her legs around his waist while she moved one hand down, digging her nails sharply into his tightly flexed ass. “I want you to fuck me as hard as you can,” she whispered. “You can now. You can take me however you want, but just don’t stop doing  _ that.” _ Her eyes rolled back and her head thumped lightly against the wall when he delivered a particularly rapid set of thrusts. It was expected—she knew how her use of strong profanity she usually only muttered would affect him—but she never could have anticipated it being quite like this. “Because… oh, God… because you… Kristoff,  _ there.”  _

“Because what?” Anna had never heard him like this, never knew he was really capable of letting any semblance of control over a clearly repressed part of him that wanted her in a much more carnal way than could ever have been allowed by their past actions. Speech. How did she speak? Was it the brain or the— “Huh?”

Then, with no answer from her, he froze.

Grinding against him was useless, she quickly discovered. He had her pinned against the wall in such a way that she could do nothing but further dig her nails into him and squeeze her heels into him. She was sure, in the morning, that her neck would be a mess of little love bites, that there would be bruises on her thighs from his fingers, that her nails would have left a few bloody imprints, and that her heels would have bruised the base of his ass. They would both be sore, and perhaps a long, hot bath would be needed.

It was everything she’d never known to want, and he was giving it to her for the cost of a few words from her. 

Deep down, she knew, he was still afraid of hurting her, of forcing something on her she didn’t  _ really _ want or that she might regret. He had always been clear that her consent was the most important thing to him, almost more important to him that it was to her.

Almost. Kristoff had taught her that. 

Because Anna needed it, too. She was the Queen, could give her husband anything, but she knew the things he wanted weren’t things that could be purchased for the trade of coins. But she could give him her words, her body, her heart and everything else in return for his mutual sentiments.

Highly aware of the juxtaposition of tenderness in the movement, Anna nuzzled softly at his ear for a moment before grinning and giving his earlobe a little nip. A rapid, shaky breath made its way into his lungs, and she could feel a very faint tremble in his touch that had nothing to do with holding her up. 

What was the question?

Oh, right.

“Because,” she whispered, keeping her voice soft and tender, “I’m your wife. Because you can, and because I want it, and I  _ know _ you want to give it to me. And, I love you,” she said simply, smiling when he leaned back slightly to look at her.

The storm in the oceans of his eyes had momentarily ceased, and they were almost calm. One of his hands released her, coming up to brush a few escaped strands of her wild hair from her face. She tried to stifle a grin, but it was impossible when his own broke across his face. He was just too good looking, blonde hair a wreck and a little stubble on his cheeks, which were flushed almost an angry looking red.

“I love you, too.” Brown eyes sparkled merrily at her as he leaned in to find her lips. He showed mercy on her,  _ finally,  _ allowing her pleasure as his hips began to move against her.

Slowly, at first. Warming her back up, she thought, because he was certainly picking up the pace again. She had relaxed the hand in his hair, but she tightened her fingers again, giving it a soft tug. Anna was met with a grunt and an especially sharp thrust of his hips.

_ There he is. _

It took almost no time after that for Kristoff to leave behind soft and tender for hard and hot. He had her positioned in such a way that each thrust of his shaft, be it coming into or going from her body, rubbed against her sensitive nub for the duration of the motion. It was maddening. She wanted more, if such a thing was possible.

She could ask, she supposed, and she was proud when she managed to. The response to her whispered request was for Kristoff to press hard against her, pulling her ass into him with his hands, pounding into her while holding her fast. 

Kristoff had made love to her, had taken her ever so gently and just a little hard, but he had never overtaken her with strength.

Anna had always considered herself a person with a strong enough will to support her slight stature. Feisty, like Kristoff often said. She knew if she placed even the slightest resistant pressure against his solid torso that he would relent, dial himself back down until he was calm and attentive. But she didn’t want that. She had no desire in that moment for the least bit of anything tender or loving.

Her husband wanted to fuck her up against the wall as much as she wanted the same thing.

Her husband… 

He was her husband, and she could have him anyway she wanted, just as he could take her however he pleased.

When he asked if she was alright, if she was uncomfortable, she responded with a sharp nip to his ear and an order to shut up.

“I’ll tell you,” she gasped, feeling the grain against the flesh of her back, which would certainly be chafed tomorrow. “Trust—oh!” She was close, and it was starting to overwhelm her. “Just fuck me.”

Three monosyllabic words were enough to make him hiss like an angry snake, enough to make him take her even harder.

When her orgasm came, it was sudden and all consuming. She had just enough presence of mind to feel his cock jerk and spew into her, felt the heat of his release as gravity did its dirty work and it slipped between the spread cheeks of her ass as her arms wrapped around his neck and head. 

They ended up on the floor, giggling like a pair of school children for a long time before Kristoff, somehow still able to find strength despite their exploits, lifted her into strong and sturdy arms, carrying her to bed.

In the morning, they woke with sore legs and backsides and huge, matching smiles, and Kristoff made slow, soft love to her in the soothing, relaxing heat of the bath. 


	2. Internal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for ALL the tags. This chapter deals with miscarriage and the emotional after effects.

It had been two months to the day, and she was still as wilted as she had been at the start.

Not that he, or anyone else, could really blame her.

To be fair, the citizens of Arendelle saw the same cheerful Queen Anna that they always had seen. She would smile brightly and wave, the motion light and easy. They were never close enough to see the ever so slight dimming of the light in her eyes, didn’t quite notice the weight in her shoulders.

Kristoff noticed. So did Mattias and Elsa, Kai and Gerda, and several staff who spoke nothing when asked by others, no one having any interest being caught gossiping by General Mattias, or worse, a snarling Prince Consort.

No one spoke of it, not even Anna, not even when he had begged. He had long stopped begging. 

At night, Anna was, to put it simply, quiet. She would still kiss him goodnight, albeit chastely, and good morning. But an unusual stillness would settle between them over dinner each night, follow them to bed, and be waiting when they woke in the morning. It stayed through breakfast, then lunch, present on the few occasions they worked quietly, face to face, though they may as well have been an ocean apart.

It wasn’t how he’d ever envisioned this part of his life to be.

While it was true that the first two months of marriage had been as picturesque as he could have possibly hoped, the two that followed made his heart hurt and his stomach churn.

No one would ever deny the tragedy of the accident, especially because that had been precisely what it had been. No one would ever know what had spooked her horse, but in an instant, Anna had flown off, tumbling over and over on the ground. She was bruised and possibly concussed, unconscious from the blow to her head. It had been merciful that she hadn’t been awake the next few hours, when the bleeding that came suddenly was at its worst.

The memory of her face, eyes darting around with confusion before she grimaced with pain, still haunted his nightmares.

It could happen to anyone, the midwife had murmured, gently patting his shoulder before taking her leave to bring a new life into the world. Anna was strong, and would certainly be with child again in short order, once she was back on her feet, once she was ready.

But not right now.

Kristoff knew Anna no longer harbored any guilt over the miscarriage. At the very least, he had managed to convince her away from that path. It had been the only time he'd confronted her with the facts, hating how she would wince, but knowing he had to do it. Then Elsa had appeared almost as quickly as he’d written, begging her to come, and any lingering doubts of Anna’s were quickly assuaged by her older sister.

And God bless her, Elsa had stayed ever since. She had just settled into her new life, was finally comfortable and excessively happy, when Kristoff had written her in a fury as soon as he could. She arrived in a flurry of ice and snow that first night, and she sat opposite him while they tried to keep Anna as cool and comfortable as was possible.

Her eyes had shed tears down her pale cheeks as she thanked him for telling her to come. He’d blushed, said he was out of his depths. 

And each night before bed, after Anna was long gone at some early hour with a need simply to be alone for a few hours or genuine exhaustion, Elsa and Kristoff hunkered down in the library, quietly playing cards. Where he had once blushed when she would hug him, he now found himself grateful for the warm embraces she offered, accepting the kisses on his cheek and gentle squeezes of her hand. He could finally see them for what they were, could finally appreciate them in a way he, and he suspected Elsa herself, had never been able to before now.

She was his sister, now more than ever before. She would take his side and support him without conditions, would do whatever was needed to help him care for Anna. 

It was as clear as the most flawless ice, the clearest glass, in the one and only instance anyone had ever deigned to attempt to challenge him in the two weeks he fully took over Anna’s duties while she rested. She was there simply as a passive observer, Mattias had said, but should anyone challenge legality or fact, Elsa could speak up in his defense or aid, having read Arendelle’s laws much more closely than he ever had.

“Excuse me,” she had said softly, rising fluidly to her feet and making the middle aged counsilman startle, “but the law is very clear, sir. My brother-in-law has _absolute_ authority in this case, and for you to question it is to question the Queen. _You_ know that,” she had finished, raising an eyebrow before turning to Kristoff. She had waved a dismissive hand and said, “Continue, Your Royal Highness. Please tell us how we can be useful to Arendelle.” Then she had curtsied and retaken her seat.

He had never appreciated the weight of the stupid title bestowed on him until that very moment.

It had been two months, he mused now, getting back to the pile of paperwork in front of him, and he was still doing half her work. All the paperwork, anyway, and there was quite a bit.

But it was fine. It was for Anna, and only for now. 

“Kristoff!”

“I’m not sleeping,” he replied instantly, straightening up. “It’s not that late. There’s still light.” He waved vaguely at the window and the slowly dwindling twilight outside.

“Kristoff, it’s past ten.” Elsa’s brow furrowed as she surveyed him. “I thought you’d gone up already.”

“No, I had a few things…” He trailed off, blinking back to the words on the page that swam under his tired eyes.

“I don’t want you to take this wrong,” Elsa insisted, stepping into the study. “Honestly, it’s coming from me, but Kristoff, you have _got_ to take it easier on yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, finally able to focus on the proposal for starting on road repairs as the weather improved, on the budgets and lists of people he would need to talk to in order to have things done to everyone’s satisfaction. At least he’d have Anna for that, he thought, setting aside the letter onto one of three growing piles. She could smile and wave and chat with the contractors. It would be fine.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Elsa, one of the gentlest people he had ever known, showed her true colors as Anna’s sister, hoisted him under his armpits and to his feet as he scrambled to obey from the shock. When he found her face with his bleary eyes, she was scowling.

“God, you look like Anna,” he muttered aloud, not really meaning to.

“I am her sister.” Elsa did the chin hoist _so_ well. “And as such, I’m ordering you, as _your_ sister, to get to bed. Go!” She shooed him away from his own desk before plopping down in his seat. “I can sort through these.”

“I have a system,” he started to say.

“I have a better one,” Elsa said dismissively. “I’ll show you in the morning when we go through all of this with Mattias.”

“Care to just make all the calls on it, as well?”

“I can’t do that,” Elsa said, rolling her eyes. “I’m the Duchess of the North Country now. I have absolutely no political power, and I’d very much like it to stay that way, and so would everybody else. I can, however, offer my services as a secretary. When I’m done, you will be able to read every one of these in an order that makes perfect sense, therefore allowing you to make a better informed decision. Now out. Go take care of my sister.”

“You know I could pull rank on you, right?” Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest in one last attempt.

But Elsa called his bluff. “You may outrank me in a ballroom,” she agreed, not moving from her spot or even looking up at him as she went about her work of rapid reading and sorting, “but you’re still my little sister’s husband. I’ve got a heavy pull with the Queen. So.”

They waited in silence while she continued his work. 

Then, she said slowly, “Go ahead, Kristoff. Try it.”

He didn’t hesitate at the sharp narrowing of her eyes and the quirk of her lip. “Not a chance in hell.”

It was a mark of how long Kristoff had spent now in the castle walls that his body carried him with no thought to their chambers. It was closer to four years now than to three, and he knew every face, every name, and every nook and cranny the place had to offer. It was also a mark of how comfortable he was that, by the time he reached the night guard standing outside the hall door, his cravat hung loose around the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, under the unbuttoned vest, jacket shed to be carried loosely in one hand. They exchanged a small nod, like always, and Kristoff dragged himself to bed.

Most of the candles were extinguished, but one remained, prominently placed on a table near the center of the room. The fire had not yet been banked, and its warmth pulled him in. He shed the rest of the stupid costume he had worn for so many days now, letting articles of clothing fall where they may as he stipped nude. It was April, and he thought little of it as he strode to the fireplace, banking it down for the night, then heading directly to bed. No need to dress, he would be warm enough. 

Though he tried to slip in quietly, Anna still stirred at his side. Some nights he pulled it off, and some nights had no need as he would find there awake and reading a book. Tonight was neither, and he pulled the covers up to his waist as she rolled toward him from the other side of the bed.

“You’re late,” she murmured. He waited, but she said nothing more.

“Had a few things to finish up.” He suddenly felt unbearably tired. It wasn’t the kind of tired that came from needing sleep, though. It was bone deep weariness, a lack of any ability to keep up the charade. But it was fine. He could do it. For Anna, his wife, his heartbroken love, he could do it.

He just had to keep going. 

“Mmm.” A soft sigh sounded, her eyes lowering as they fluttered tiredly.

“Elsa kicked me out.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, other than the near delirium that he currently felt.

At this, Anna’s eyes opened and her brow furrowed. Damn it, he thought to himself, this was what he always tried to avoid. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head as he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “She’s just… There’s some sorting shit, I don’t know. Don't worry about it, it's fine.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

Then it was quiet again for a long time.

For whatever reason, sleep eluded him.

Anna’s soft snores eventually reached his ears, making him smile softly. No matter what happened, she would always snore, would always wake in the morning with wild hair and a little drool running down her cheek.

He could _almost_ imagine nothing had happened, that everything was just as it had been two months before.

But he couldn’t.

Why it happened then, Kristoff couldn’t be sure. Maybe the time was just finally the amount he needed to process and have real deep thoughts on who he was and the responsibility he now carried. Maybe it was being so tired. Maybe it was being chastised by Elsa. Maybe it was the silence.

Maybe it finally was just too much.

In the hopes that he wouldn’t wake Anna, Kristoff managed to make his way into the dressing room and bury his face into a pillow on the chaise before the sobs wrenched their way from his body. They were raw and painful and so, _so_ freeing. 

It was hard to remember a time when he’d cried so hard. He had cried after proposing to Anna, for a number of reasons, but that had felt different. Fear had still gripped his heart, and relief.

This wasn’t relief, nor was it fear. It was every worry, every concern, every errant thought he held in all day, every day, and it was finally allowed somewhere to go. That somewhere happened to be his eyebrows, and his lips. The pillow seemed to be muffling him, but he still worried at the volume. It was difficult, though, to reign it in, but he knew he had to try. Couldn’t wake Anna, couldn’t worry her… 

He lost his focus. For a while, he just drifted. He went blank to everything but the feeling of release before he was finally able to hear the little voice in the back of his head.

_This is just for now,_ it whispered. _It will pass. You just have to stay strong…_

Stay strong.

Fuck that shit. He could let himself break, just this once. 

It was almost as if he had blacked out as he came to somewhat suddenly, realizing that he was, while somewhat calmed, still whimpering softly. He could feel… 

There was that soft sigh again. “Kristoff.” Again, the sensation of her fingers raking through his hair. She didn't say anything, other than to repeat his name over and over, almost as if she were praying.

At some point, he felt that he had control of his voice again, and he managed to silence himself. A warm blanket was draped around him and his head was cradled in her lap as her blue eyes watched him, concerned and, for the first time he could recall in a while, warm with genuine affection, lacking that hollow look that had haunted him. How long had he been here?

“Oh, I don’t know.” Anna glanced toward the window, where he could see that last bands of light finally fading on the horizon.

Christ, at least an hour.

“Sounds about right.”

Was he talking out loud?

“Yes, you are,” Anna said, and now, she was laughing. She almost sounded a little giddy. 

“Fuck.” That one, he meant to say. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Stop it.” Anna’s voice was gentle, but commanding. “I mean it, Kristoff.”

“No, Anna, I’m sorry, it’s—”

“Stop.” Blinking through eyes that were slowly clearing away tears and their rememants, he gazed at her wordlessly. “I know you’re lying, anyway. You always say you’re fine, but you’re not. You’re burned out.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.” Her tone booked no refusal, and his mouth snapped shut. “We both are.”

“I’m fine, Anna, I—”

“Look at me,” she murmured, pulling him up to sitting so that they were a few feet apart on the chaise. She leaned into the arched back, regarding him with yet another weighty exhale and appraising eyes. “You look like absolute hell. You _sound_ like hell, and I’m willing to bed you feel like hell. So if you tell me you’re fine, or that it’s fine, or that everything's fine,” she continued, waving a hand and rolling her eyes, just like she usually would, “I will not hesitate to go into passive aggressive mode where suddenly I’m _fine,”_ she said, making her voice haughty, “absolutely and _totally_ fine.

“So please,” Anna said, voice begging and eyes pleading, “stop being fine. You don’t have to be, you know.”

“I just hate seeing you like this. And I—” He had to work to keep back another round of sobs, biting off the words he felt so guilty over.

“And what?”

“And…”

“If you can’t tell me, you can’t tell anybody.” A tiny, sad smile quirked her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I haven’t been the best one lately, but I’m still your wife, after all.”

“You _are_ the best wife,” he whispered fervently, managing to get an arm around her waist and squeeze.

“Kristoff,” she sighed again. “Just tell me. Please?”

“I’m just so, _so_ sad.” The words were difficult, but it felt like a demon had been released from his body. He inhaled and exhaled, long and deep and slow, feeling another demon leaving. “I’m sad because you’re in pain and I don’t know what to do. And…” Fuck it, he was going to cry again. “And I don’t know how you feel or if I’m an ass hole for being sad about it, you know, because it wasn’t anybody’s fault, _definitely_ not yours, and I don’t want you to feel bad, but I just…”

Anna’s fingers were carding through his hair again, nails scratching lightly at his skull. “I know,” she murmured, and there were a few tears in her eyes now. “And I know what you mean. I don’t blame myself. I don’t blame anybody, really. There is no one _to_ blame, and sometimes I still can’t get my head around that. I’ve tried, I really have, but I just don’t understand that it’s completely random, some stupid accident. You realize I’d probably be almost a third of the way through it by now? I’d probably be starting to show, just a little.”

“I know.” He wrapped the arm around her tighter.

“It’s not fair,” she continued, and he realized he hadn’t heard her talk this much in months. “And it’s so _stupid_ that we waited so long only to have this happen. Although,” she mused, and she was smiling that tiny smile again, “it does prove your point pretty well. You were right, all along.”

Shifting around to get a better view of her face, he frowned. “About what?”

“You were always so worried about putting me in a compromising position. You were right. Took you no time, at all.”

At this, he laughed, the sound a little hollow.

“Come on.” She guided him up to sitting before rising, holding out a hand. “Come back to bed. We can stay up late, if you want.”

Later, once everything was out, doubts and fears and anticipation, he found himself lying on his side while Anna’s fingers played with his arm hair. “You know, I’m not sure all men would be as understanding as you. I don’t care what you say, I haven’t been a very good wife for the past couple of months. We’re newlyweds, for crying out loud. You shouldn’t have to come to bed to a frigid wife.”

He felt like he’d said it a dozen times, but he sighed and said it again. “Anna, this isn’t about being the best wife. That’s not a question. You’re going through a lot right now. Like you said, we’re _both_ burned out. And you’re not frigid.” He heard the sterneness in his voice, watched her eyebrows raise.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said, smiling again, this time actually giggling a little. “But it really doesn’t bother you?”

“I haven’t thought about it much, to be honest. I’ve had other things on my mind.”

A thoughtful look crossed Anna’s face as she continued running her fingers over his forearm. “You know,” she said, almost as if she were thinking aloud, “as long as I’ve known you, I’ve always been in some degree of awe of how strong you are. At first, it was just physical. You did throw me onto Sven like I didn’t weigh a thing.” Her eyes were bright again, and he smiled slightly. “But then I started to realize it wasn’t just your exterior. I don’t think of myself as weak minded, but I don't know if I'm as strong as you are. I think if I was in your shoes, I would have had my meltdown on day one or two.”

“I don’t know about that.” When she shifted closer, moving to drape an arm over his waist, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re pretty tough.”

“But I’m tougher _with_ you,” she said. “I’m better with you. I can only get out of bed in the mornings right now because I know you’re there. And I’m not even fully functional then. I know you’re working too hard. _Elsa_ kicked you out?” She tsked softly. “That takes some work, my friend.”

For a long, quiet moment, he thought about that. As he considered, he shifted, pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead.

“I feel the same way, you know,” he murmured eventually, and she shifted to look up at him. “I was okay by myself for a long time. I had my family, Sven, work.” He shrugged. “I could have been fine for the rest of my life, I guess, but then I found something better than fine. You always joke about how strong I am—”

“I’m not always joking, you know.” There was a look in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen in a couple of months, and his stomach flipped.

“Whatever. Yeah, I can lift the heavy things and reach the things on high shelves. But I was always a little afraid, I think, to really let myself love with the same strength. People weren’t always the nicest to me, you know.” Her eyes flashed dangerously now, but he continued. “Not until one night when I happened to run into a high strung princess with a heart of gold in the middle of a snowstorm.”

“I am not high strung.”

“Your nose just went up in the air.”

She huffed. “I’m the Queen.”

“Yes, you are, your Majesty,” he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips to hers.

_There she was._

His Anna, his feisty, bold, smart, loving, beautiful wife.

His wife… 

Her lips were insistent suddenly, and it dawned on him what was happening.

“Anna,” he murmured, pressing lightly against her shoulders.

She easily read his tone. “Kristoff, I’ve told you—”

“Don’t you start,” he warned. “If you think I’m not going to ask if you’re sure, you’ve really gone crazy.”

Anna laughed lightly, her head falling back as she smiled, her expression giddy. “I’m sure,” she promised, then her fingers were soft in his hair. “I’m okay. I have been for a while, physically, I just wasn't ready mentally.”

As she settled astride his waist, she was biting her lip, seeming a little unsure of herself, and it suddenly dawned on Kristoff that they hadn't gone this long without some form of physical intimacy in years. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her into the little world where only they existed. Their lips met softly, the kiss they shared slow, almost lazy, his wandering fingers toying with her hair before skimming down her back. Anna sighed, arms wrapping around his neck, calves brushing against his where her nightgown and ridden up. 

And he was suddenly aware that he was naked, and Anna wore only a light nightgown. 

Since marrying, Anna had started wearing more dressing gowns to cover what she wore, or didn't, underneath. More than once, on those bitterly cold winter nights when they'd first come back to the castle, when they'd very first been wed, she had burrowed down beneath piles of blankets in only thin lace that left little to the imagination. As time and events progressed, she had changed to wearing thin, soft linen and cotton, and he felt the latter under his fingers now. 

It was almost like the first time, he thought, as his fingers hesitantly, almost afraid he'd misread her clear messages, crept down her thighs to where the hem was raised to just above her knees. One hand slid beneath the soft fabric to find skin that was softer still, feeling her tremble softly as he gently trailed his fingers over her backside. She looked almost shy as she bit her lip, eyes wide as his hand slid carefully over her thigh, giving her time to change her mind. 

He knew he would need to go slow with her, would need to take into consideration her body's reaction to their two month dry spell, so he carefully maneuvered her onto her back. Their lips met again as he felt his way up to her drawers. Trusting that she would halt him if she wished, he slowly untied them, tugging them away and casting them aside. The white cotton had shifted further up, and it was easy to side up and find her apex. Her thighs spread for him, and he found himself desperate for her lips again. 

It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time he had felt Anna under him, gasping and sighing and moaning for him. Still, it was just as beautiful of a sight to behold as he recalled. He brushed his fingers softly up and down her warm, damp folds, reveling in the way she squirmed at his touch. 

When he finally slid one finger into her, he realized how slow he was going to have to go. She was tight as a vice, muscles squeezing at the entrance of the digit, her back arching as she cried out in delight. He worked the single finger slowly, feeling her gradually acclimate before adding another. A wordless cry tumbled from her lips as they wrenched away from his own, her head falling into the pillow beneath her. 

“You okay?” The words slipped unbidden across his lips, as was usual for him. She was so much smaller than him, and though he knew the answer would always be in the affirmative, he still needed to ask.

“I’m okay.” Her nose scrunched delicately as she said the words. “Just…” She exhaled sharply, and he worked to keep his ministrations gentle. “Just go slow.”

“I was planning on it.” The face beneath his was still wearing a frown, and he tried to kiss it away. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“I’m sorry.” Blue irises appeared from under fluttering lids. “I shouldn’t… You…” 

“Hush.” Kristoff brushed his lips over her furrowed brow, peppering it with kisses. “I’m fine with slow, Anna. I did slow for years.”

In fact, that gave him an idea.

There had never been any doubt of his ability to satisfy Anna. From the first time he touched the moist place where her thighs met, he had always succeeded in bringing her pleasure. He had learned her body over the years, knew the path from each freckle, could find constellations on her skin. He could remember finding the bear, the eagle, that unnamed pattern just above her right knee.

It was easy to take her apart.

He had spent _years_ preparing to take her apart like this.

It had been after a crude description of “eating a cunny,” that Kristoff had first tasted Anna’s. He had listened carefully, then used his bits of preexisting knowledge to fill in the gaps. Anna had trembled deliciously under him, just like she was doing now.

Except, well, experience. Yeah. Because he'd had years of learning her body. Because, well, he’d fucking married her.

Now, Kristoff knew to press gently against her clit with the flat of his tongue. He knew if he curled a finger inside while he lapped softly that it would cause her back to arch, jutting her breasts toward the ceiling. The sweet, musky taste of her on his lips had always done him in, and he knew when he groaned softly at the flavor, the vibrations of his voice would travel into her most sensitive regions.

He watched, gently supporting the leg she had thrown around his neck, as her face contorted for a much better purpose than sadness. Though he hadn’t forgotten the feeling of her fingers in his hair as he devoured her, he wondered why it was so much better than he recalled. There was the sharp pleasure that bordered on pain as she tugged as his hair, demanding as much as pleading. He acquiesced every time, giving her everything she wanted until she finally fell over the edge.

She came under him, back arched toward the constellations that matched her own, crying out his name as if he were a god. He observed her carefully as he worked his tongue over her clit a few more times, curling then separating his fingers inside of her, stretching her gently. There was no sign of any discomfort, and he pulled away slowly, moving his fingers to coat his cock with her essence as she quickly shed her nightgown to be as naked as him. A wide smile spread over her face, the kind he hadn’t seen in months, the kind that meant she was on edge and ready for more, that meant she was as ready as him.

Settling between her legs, grasping himself carefully, he lined up, giving her one more glance, not hiding the concern in his eyes. She nodded, reaching her arms up to drape over his shoulders.

He had to trust her. If she said she was fine, she was fine. Anna was stronger than him in almost every way—stronger rage, stronger enthusiasm, stronger will—so he would trust her not to let him give her more than she could handle physically.

Carefully, slowly, Kristoff eased in, first just the tip, then inch by inch of his shaft until he finally bottomed out. He exhaled sharply, releasing a breath he hadn’t been consciously holding, as he remembered the first time he’d fully made love to her. He’d thought his balls would explode.

He was pretty sure this was significantly more intense.

This was knowing, missing, and desperation. It felt like thousands of tiny explosions were going off inside his body, and he was sure that if he moved, it would be over.

Just like the first time, Anna smiled softly and raked her fingers through his hair, pulling him down so that he could bury his face in her neck. He breathed slowly, in and out, focusing on her scent, on oxygen, on anything but the feeling of his body turning to jelly at the sensation of her body wrapped vice-tight around his. Her fingers were steady where his shook, arms firm where his felt ready to give out. When he desperately found her lips, hips still motionless, her breathing was calm and easy, and he worked to match its pace.

Thank God, he thought, for probably the millionth time, for Anna. Thank God for this strong, beautiful woman who loved him.

His wife.

Kristoff didn’t think he’d ever exerted so much effort taking his time. He was sure that she could handle more, but he didn’t want that, and was fairly sure she agreed. This needed to be slow. They had earned the right to take their time with each other, like they had before life had sped up, crashed, and come to a screeching halt.

His first thrust was a gentle rock of his hips against hers. Anna’s gasp stole his breath, and he did it again, again, a fourth time, until her fingers finally lost that amazing strength as she gave herself over to him, trusting him with her body, trusting him never to break her in any way.

Feeling her struggle to stay wrapped around him as their bodies became sweat slicked, he reached down to support one of her legs up over his hips. He felt her relax a little, still tight but a bit easier as his attentions continued. He knew he was rubbing over her clit with each slow motion and that she was highly sensitive at the moment, and he could only imagine what this pace was doing to her. Their lips finally parted as she groaned, face wrenching again with pleasure. 

“Yes,” she gasped, answering the unasked questions. Yes, it was good. Yes, she wanted more. Yes, she was fine.

_Fuck,_ was she fine.

“Anna,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her forehead, needing the close contact. “Anna.” Another thrust, another whisper of her name. Again. Again. 

God, had it _always_ been like this? Maybe, but he definitely appreciated it more, now. He knew now just how easy it would be to lose her, how much it would hurt. He knew she would always trust him, always come back when she retreated into the dark recesses of her mind. She would always be his Anna, no matter what.

He just had to help her stay standing, to find strength he didn’t know he had when hers finally gave out, however temporarily. Kristoff felt sure that her tenacity would return soon, that maybe he could finally help her feel more like herself, starting here, in their bed, connected in a way only allowed by deep, true love.

His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest as he managed to find strength again, if only for a moment. Rolling onto his back, he took a grinning Anna with him. She sat up at once, shifting so that she was more or less on her knees over him, his cock still buried deep inside her. Anna kept his slow pace, rolling her hips gently, luxuriously, as she ground against him. Her head fell back, her the tips of her long, loose hair tickling his thighs and making him shiver. She laughed delightedly at this and did it again and again until she finally pulled her head up to look at him. Her lip was between her teeth, eyes almost feverishly bright. Leaning forward, she slowly, very lightly, dragged the fingernails of one hand down his chest to his naval, pausing to brace herself there.

“Is this okay?”

Fuck, she was asking _him?_

“Yes,” he groaned, his eyes falling closed on their own. She did it again, making him shudder.

“I like this,” she said, and her voice was just above a whisper. He felt her hand leave him, moving to brace against his thigh, just for a moment. “I like taking you apart. You’re so much stronger than me, you could break free—”

“Not right now.” The weak laughter that left him breathless was almost embarrassing. “You’ve pretty much got me by the balls, sweetheart.”

He didn’t think about the words as they left his lips, but when he blinked his eyes open, she was staring at him with one eyebrow cocked regally, the hand on his thigh twitching slightly, not from nerves but from a desire for more.

“Not yet,” she said, and her voice promised the most beautiful torture she could offer.

The hand on his thigh moved, drifting to the part of his anatomy he had so carelessly mentioned, dragging one nail carefully down the center of his sac.

_Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come._

Then she tugged. She fucking _tugged,_ lightly and carefully and not in a way that was at all painful, and God damn it, it wasn't fucking _fair_ when she knew what that did to him.

Hell, if she wanted to take him apart, he’d willingly break into a thousand tiny pieces for her.

He hissed at the sensation of her hand, at the clenching of her internal walls around him as she leaned forward, reaching for one of his hands. She guided it to where they were joined, encouraging him to find her nub with his thumb. He rubbed softly, watching as she moaned out his name before his eyes had to close again.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, and he knew from the sound of her voice that she was scrunching up her little nose again with delighted pleasure. “Oh, Kristoff, I’m—” She was panting, and he opened his eyes to find hers wide and dark as her hips kept the steady pace he had set. “I’m almost—”

“Yes, baby,” he groaned, and he rocked himself up to meet her this time, the sound of her sharp cries meeting his ears like the most beautifully composed melody. “Come for me, Anna.”

“You first,” she gasped. “I need you to…” 

_Finally._

He drained into her, grasping gently at her hips as she came again, finally letting his seed fill her with a need closing quickly on desperation. His name left her lips again in a sharp cry as she shuddered, pushing down against his pelvis with as much force as she could muster. Her strength finally gave out, and she collapsed against his chest, lips finding his with tender care.

They stayed joined for a while, kissing like they had when they’d first became intimate, like they’d done at numerous balls and dinners, sheltered in the library or a closet or hidden in the alcoves of the gardens.

They dragged themselves apart, and Kristoff whined softly when she moved to rest by his side, his softened member slipping from her heat. Curling into his side, Anna sighed softly, quiet for a moment while he situated himself to wrap around her, pulling the covers up over them both.

“I needed that,” she finally murmured. “Thanks.”

Kristoff laughed. “You’re very welcome. I’d be lying if I didn’t agree. Totally haven’t thought about it, but yeah, definitely needed it.”

It was quiet again while they came down, breath finally slowing back to normal with the beating of their hearts. He thought she might have fallen asleep again, but he heard her begin to speak before stopping.

“What’s on your mind, hmm?” He lazily brushed some of her wild hair from her face, staring down at her.

“What if…” She bit her lip softly, eyes wide as she stared nervously up at him again. “Is it…” But she couldn’t seem to find her words.

“It’s okay, honey.” His fingers traced down and up her spine slowly. “Take your time.”

A few minutes later, she finally spoke.

“Last time,” she said slowly, as if she were still placing the words under careful consideration, “I got pregnant right away. I mean, the midwife said I was about two months along, and we’d barely been married that long. I feel guilty, but I want that again. Am I… wrong, I guess? Is that bad of me?”

“No.” Kristoff kissed the tip of her nose, then her brow, and it calmed at his touch. “I can’t speak from experience, but I think that’s probably normal. The midwife said it happens to lots of women, and they go on to have perfectly healthy babies.” Kristoff rested a hand against her abdomen, realizing suddenly that he hadn’t really touched her stomach in months. He’d been too afraid of upsetting her.

“I know.” Anna sighed, reaching down to rest her hand on top of his. “I just feel like we got robbed last time, you know? We both wanted it, and we didn’t even know we had it.”

“It’ll happen,” he promised, resting his forehead against hers. “Maybe not right away, but I can feel it.”

“Yeah?”

Kristoff nodded, eyelids feeling suddenly like lead weights. “Mmhmm.”

Anna smiled softly. “You really have been burning the candle at both ends. Go to sleep.”

With no further encouragement needed, Kristoff closed his eyes, but not before gathering Anna back in his arms. 

It felt like five minutes later that he woke to murmuring voices. 

“Very good.” Mattias. His voice was muffled, and when he opened one eye, Kristoff could see that the door was slightly ajar. “I'll speak to your sister, see if she can stick around for a few more days.”

“I'll talk to Elsa. I need to thank her anyway. You just get to work on tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma'am.” There was a short pause, then, “For what it's worth, I think you're making the right decision. Whatever it takes to get you back on your feet, and whatever it takes to keep His Royal Highness resting.”

“Thank you.”

“Your Majesty.”

Groggily, Kristoff opened both eyes. It was dreary outside, rain pattering intermittently against the windows, giving Kristoff no desire to get out of bed. But he could smell coffee, and he dragged himself to the table where a carafe had been placed with two cups. Wondering vaguely what Anna was still murmuring about with her general, he plodded back to bed, sighing with relief into his cup as he slid back under the covers. 

The door opened and closed softly and Kristoff glanced over the rim of the cup to see Anna smiling at him. She was already dressed, and a glance at the clock told him it was nearly eight. He would need to get dressed soon, himself. 

Anna sat down at his side, smiling slightly as she pushed his mused hair back from his eyes. He was pleased to see the lack of a frown in her face this morning, and he kissed her softly. 

“What was that about?”

“You're taking the day off.” Anna was still smiling as she pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Then tomorrow, we're both taking the day. Mattias thinks there's one or two things that can't be helped, so I'm going to draft Elsa. I'll have banished her back home by the end of the week, with any luck.”

“What about you?”

“I think I'll be just fine. I finally feel like I got a good, solid sleep, and I'm only taking two meetings this morning. I'd like to start getting back to normal.”

Kristoff regarded her over his coffee. Part of him wanted to ask if she was sure, but this was Anna. If she needed help, she would ask. She was strong, and she finally looked ready. Her eyes were brighter this morning and she'd woken before him, early enough, it seemed, to order breakfast. 

“And tomorrow?”

“I have plans,” she said loftily. “If it's alright with you, I thought we'd just spend the day in bed.”

“Fine by me. But aren’t there a thousand things you need to do?”

“They can wait thirty six hours. Happy monarch, happy kingdom. And with the weather getting nicer, it’s only going to get busier from here.” Leaning forward, Anna kissed him softly on the lips. “You stay here, and I’ll be back after lunch. Mattias said there’s nothing urgent, so I expect you naked and waiting when I get back.”

And even though he was still exhausted, a smile spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

“No going anywhere. I know you’re used to working yourself until you’re ragged, but not on my account.”

“Anna,” he started, but she shook her head.

“You’ve done more than enough lately,” she reassured him, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re going to need to get back to your own work soon, anyway. And also, it’s an order from your Queen.”

He chuckled. “Well, if it’s an order.”

“It is. And I’ve got one more.” She kissed him again, then rose to head for the door. “Don’t get out of bed.”

“What if I have to piss?”

Anna rolled her eyes and laughed. “So crass,” she teased. “But I guess that’s allowed.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And with a wave of her fingers and a wink, she was gone.

_There she was._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anybody who needs to hear it, you don't have to be okay all the time. It's okay not to be, sometimes. I'm not okay, but I'm going to keep at it, because that's what I need to do. I'm an exhausted ball of nerves and to much stress from work, so I do this to make myself feel better, because it's fun. I've always made it to tomorrow. We're all going through something. It's okay to feel it. Ignoring problems just makes them worse. To quote a wise creature, "You feel what you feel, and those feelings are real." So laugh until it hurts, cry until you run out of tears, leave work at work and relax when you go home, and cut yourself a little slack. You'll feel better. Take care.


End file.
